Cupcakes And Comfort
by Rhiannon A. Christy
Summary: Day 3 of the FYDL 21 Day Crossover Challenge over on Tumblr. Prompt: "Every morning you walk in and inhale deeply, then walk back out. Seriously, just buy something already!" Bakery!AU


Day 3: Wednesday, June 24th

"Every morning you walk in and inhale deeply, then walk back out. Seriously, just buy something already!" Bakery!AU

Crossover: Sherlock (BBC)

Pairing: Darcy/Greg Lestrade

Rating: T

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Cupcakes And Comfort

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Darcy leaned against the counter, her fingers fiddling with one of the frilly napkins the bakery provided. Breakfast At Audery's Bakery in London was a cute little shop that served "authentic" American baked goods, and even though Darcy sometimes grew annoyed with it, she loved working there.

Working in a bakery so far from home had never been in the plan. She had gone to school, majored in political science, and had of course planned on getting into politics. But things had a way of screwing up.

Her last semester of school she had taken on an internship for a senator. It had been a dream job, sure to help kick-start her career. Only the bastard turned out to be crooked as hell. He also tried to seduce her, and when that hadn't worked out how he planned he had blamed her. So there went her career and her reputation. For some reason no one wanted to hire a woman believed to have slept with a married man. So that had been that. Her life had turned out to be an evening soap-opera.

It was no shocker then, that when her best friend from high school called up with a job offer, she had accepted. Even if it was in England. She had said yes and packed up before Jane could even explain what the job was. So there she was, sharing a flat and a business with her once and once again best friend.

Darcy sighed as she looked around the place. The entire shop had been decorated in nothing but black and white and the walls dotted with prints of old Hollywood stars. The display counter which she leaned against was filled with cupcakes topped with edible pearl necklaces and mini golden awards. The entire place was a little cutesy, but somehow worked to fit both her and Jane's personalities.

It was still pretty early in the morning, but several patrons dotted the place. There was Mrs. Elsberry over in the corner nibbling on her regular order of pink champagne cupcakes. Miss Martin and her mother were by the window, cups of tea in hand as they planned the young woman's wedding. There were even a few American students towards the back that came in whenever they felt homesick so they could make small talk with her and Jane. And there was…

A ding came from the door of the shop and Darcy rolled her eyes. Yep, eleven o'clock on the dot. The man was never late. For the past two months it had been the same. Eleven rolled around and the door opened to admit an older man in a suit. He never sat down, never ordered anything; not a cup of tea or coffee, not even a stupid sample of cake. He just took several steps into the shop, looked around, took a great big sniff, and turned around and headed off again. It was getting to be annoying.

Darcy watched from her position at the counter as the man took his normal steps into the shop, stopped by the cream Chesterfield, and looked around. She wasn't sure who this man was, he had never spoken to her and she had never asked. His shoulders, so tightly wound up against his neck, seemed to slowly ease down until his arms hung loosely at his sides. His mouth eased from its strict line, and curled up into a slight smile. This was the only reason she had never told him to buy something or get lost, for some reason coming into her shop seemed to put him at ease.

His eyes skimmed over her, though she figured she imagined it, they seemed to linger on her longer than anywhere else. Once he had completed that task, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He held it for several seconds before turning around and heading out. Darcy just watched him go.

"Eleven O'clock come and gone already?" Jane slipped up behind Darcy, holding in her laughter as the other woman jumped in shock. She had watched for awhile now as the man came in and out of the shop. She figured Darcy hadn't noticed it, but Jane had seen how the man's eyes lingered on Darcy everyday. She was pretty sure he didn't visit for the aroma of her baking.

"Is he ever late?" Darcy shook her head and stepped back from the counter. Now that the Silver Fox; and ok yes, she could admit the man was gorgeous; she had work to do. "Do you think he will ever buy something? I mean, he doesn't look like he is hurting for money."

"Possibly one day." Jane didn't enlighten her friend, deciding it would be more fun to see how things played out on their own. "But until then we have an order for seventeen dozen white-chocolate raspberry cupcakes for a wedding. And those happen to be your specialty."

Darcy groaned. She loved Jane, but the woman could be the world's biggest bitch at times.

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The days went on, and everyday like clockwork the man came into the shop. And everyday Darcy watched him come and go. On this day though, this day something was different. He held his shoulders even tighter than normal, his eyes were red, and Darcy swore she could see tear tracks on his cheeks.

Without actually thinking anything through, Darcy randomly grabbed at a dessert in the display and headed towards the man. She stopped right in front of him and just looked up at him. She had been right, dried tear tracks trailed down his cheeks, cutting through his stubble.

"Why don't you come and sit down? I've got a…" Darcy looked down at the item in her hand just realizing that she had no idea what she picked up. "…I have a cupcake for you, it's rum-raisin. I swear it's better than it sounds."

"How much rum does it have in it?" The man looked down at her with hard set lips, but he made no move to either enter or leave.

"Uh, it won't get you drunk if that is what you're worried about." Darcy blinked, so she had been asked that question by a few young kids that didn't know any better, but it sounded strange coming from an adult.

"Pity, I could use a drink." The man smiled down weakly at her, a few tears still clinging to the tips of his lashes.

"Sadly we don't serve anything harder than coffee. But, if you sit down I can promise you a slice of my famous crustless cheesecake. We only serve it on Saturdays, but I'll make an exception for you." Darcy carefully took one of the man's arms, and slowly led him to the back corner. It was the most secluded area in the shop, having a low coffee table surrounded by a mismatched puffy chair and a half and wingback.

"I should probably… maybe just for a bit." The man walked slowly by her side, his face turned down so no others in the shop could see him. "I'm Greg Lestrade, by the way."

"Good to finally meet you, Greg. I'm Darcy Lewis, but Darce is just fine." Darcy sat Greg down in the chair and a half and sat beside him. She placed the plate with the cupcake on the low table and just looked up at him. "Is everything alright? Is there anyone I need to call? Wife, girlfriend, Mom, Scotland Yard?"

"I'm from New Scotland Yard actually." Greg cringed a bit, but shook it off and reached for the cupcake. "And no, I'm fine. Thank you."

Darcy just remained beside him, watching as he bit into the cake. He chewed slowly, swallowing each bite down before taking another. She had seen people act like he was, she had done so herself after the death of her Nana. She just smiled and set a hand on his thigh. "I might just be a baker girl, but I'm here if you want to talk."

"It will all be out in the papers tomorrow." Greg swallowed another bite of his cake. She had been right, it was good. "A friend of mine, he… he died. Suicide apparently."

"Oh Shit!" Darcy went wide-eyed, but quickly reined herself in. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"It's alright, I think that's been pretty much everyone's reaction today. Sherlock just isn't… wasn't the type." Greg finished off the cupcake before setting back more fully in the chair. He looked down at the pretty brunette, he had been coming in the shop for almost three months now and had yet to gather the courage to talk to her.

He had been passing by the shop one morning when he happened to have glanced in the window. She had been standing at one of the tables, a huge smile on her face while she talked to a couple of older women. He had been struck by her smile and the shining eyes behind her glasses that he had just entered without thought. He had already eaten by that point, and he was sure the woman was far too young for him, so he had just taken in a deep breath and turned and left.

He hadn't planned on coming back the next day, or the day after that, or the one after that. Still he found himself there every morning, taking a moment to glance at her and take in the smells of the place. He had told himself over and over again that the next day would be the day he spoke to her, but he never did. His marriage had fallen apart, so many of his relationships had fallen apart, he feared if he ever talked to her that he would end up loosing her too.

It was strange, and probably very telling, that after he had been sent away from the crime scene he had gone straight to the bakery. The place and the woman, Darcy, had become a sort of comfort for him. Coming in every morning to just look at her and take in the scent of fresh baked goods had been enough to steel him for the day ahead. And now he needed her presence and the shop to help him deal with the loss of his friend. Not that he would tell her that, he had finally spoken to her and he knew that would scare her away.

"They never seem to be." Darcy patted his leg, hoping that at least something she said helped. She had never lost anyone in such a way, and couldn't imagine what it felt like. "How about I get you that piece of cheesecake, hm?"

"That sounds lovely." Greg sat back as far as he could as Darcy stood up, his eyes glued to her. "And maybe a cup of coffee, it always smells so good when I come in. I have a lot of time to make up for."

"Yeah, you do." She felt a flutter in her chest, one she was sure had nothing to do with any kind of medical problem. "But that's alright, we've got time."

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Author's Note: Day 3. So, this is really the first time I've written so much of Lestrade. This take place during the last bit of series two, and kind of went way more bittersweet than I had originally planned.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


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